


Scenes From A Marriage

by sunsetmog



Series: Woke Up Married [2]
Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Incomplete, M/M, Not Fic, Woke Up Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes From A Marriage, or: The Sequel That Wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenes From A Marriage

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://sunsetmog.livejournal.com/561398.html) in June 2011.
> 
> I found some deleted scenes from Just Another, my Brendon/Spencer woke-up-married story, and figured I'd share. Originally I didn't plan on ending the story where I did, which was a declaration of love in the airport, but intended to go on past that and have Brendon and Spencer telling each of their friends in turn. It felt good in my head! So I wrote an extra 2k that followed directly on from that declaration in the airport, but really, the declaration was the high point and anything that came after that was sort of a slide downward in tone, so it didn't really work out. On top of that, telling everyone wasn't going the way I intended, either. It felt like a list of the same things to person after person after person, so it ground to a halt and I went back and fiddled with the bit in the airport to make that the ending instead. So here, have them telling Shane they're married, and being in love.

-

There are a few minutes left before they're due to start boarding the plane back to LA.

"Shane texted," Brendon says, as Spencer comes out of the bathroom. Brendon's waiting for him, leaning up against the side of the book stand with his backpack by his foot. He's wearing the same kind of smile that Spencer thinks is probably reflected on his own face, soft and shy and kind of amazed. 

"Oh yeah?" Spencer asks, biting his lip to try and stop his stupid grin from looking any more stupid than it already does. He leans against the wall next to Brendon, a careful distance between the two of them. It isn't as if anyone's watching them, but one public display of affection is enough for any day, especially as Spencer is trying to remember that they're sort of semi-famous, and if they're going to be recognized anywhere, then Las Vegas airport is probably a good place to start. 

"He wanted to know if we were dead," Brendon tells him, and he's going for nonchalant, Spencer knows, but it isn't as if Brendon's ever been any good at hiding how happy he is. "I said we weren't, and he should come over tomorrow." His phone buzzes, and Spencer watches as Brendon checks his messages. "He says he's going to bug us into going surfing," Brendon tells him, moving a little closer so that his elbow bumps against Spencer's. 

Spencer nudges him back, shifting so that their arms are touching, shoulder to wrist. Spencer can feel the heat of Brendon's skin at every point they touch. "As if you need bugging," Spencer says, fondly. He feels fond, today. Fond, and stupidly happy, and weirdly protective. Brendon's parents tend to make him feel like that, much as he normally likes them. 

"You don't mind?" Brendon asks, haltingly. Spencer thinks he's clearly trying for relaxed, but Brendon looks awkward, a little short of unsure. The smile's missing for a moment. 

Spencer feels confused. "Going surfing? No, I love surfing."

"No," Brendon says. He waits a beat. "Telling him, tomorrow. About us."

Oh, Spencer thinks. "You figured I wouldn't want to?" he asks. He'd thought that now they've told their parents, it was just a case of moving down the list of all their friends and telling them.

Brendon shakes his head quickly. "No, I mean. I just wanted to check it was okay with you. That you wanted to tell people. I want to tell, uh," he trails off. "I figured I'd check," he finishes, lamely. 

"Shut up," Spencer says, easily, even though he feels anything but easy. His heart is thumping. "I want everyone to know," he says, even though it's kind of a scary feeling. 

Brendon swallows. "Me too," he says, loudly. A middle-aged lady turns around to stare at them for a moment, before turning back to her book. "Sorry," he says, quieter this time, watching Spencer. "Me too."

Every time Brendon looks at him, Spencer's stomach just _leaps_ , and it's so ridiculous, and so incredible that he feels like he's flying. Brendon clearly feels the same, because they've been sneaking each other these wide-eyed, disbelieving glances the whole time they've been in the airport. 

"So," Brendon says, trying to bite back a smile. "We're telling people, then?"

"Yeah," Spencer says, unable to hold back his own grin. "We sure are."

-

Spencer's pretty sure it's stupid, but he can't stop touching Brendon. 

They're supposed to be making pancakes for breakfast, but they're not getting very far, mostly because Spencer has his arm looped around Brendon's waist and Brendon has his hand in the back pocket of Spencer's shorts. They haven't even opened the pancake mix, because they're too busy making out, with Spencer pressed up against the kitchen cabinets. 

It's stupid, and it's lame, and Spencer's spent the better part of his life rolling his eyes at the idea of ever acting like this, but right now, he doesn't care at all. He's acting like a stupid dude in love, but so is Brendon, so he can't bring himself to stop. 

"We should make pancakes before Shane gets here," Brendon says, regretfully, pulling away. He looks like he's been kissed for hours; his hair is mussed and there's stubble burn across his cheeks, his eyes a little glazed and his mouth swollen and red. 

Spencer runs his thumb up Brendon's throat, tilting his head back so he can kiss the corner of Brendon's mouth again. "We should go back upstairs to bed," Spencer tells him, because it's the truth. The previous evening they'd passed out sprawled across the bed, exhausted by traveling and the flights and everything else, but this morning Spencer had woken up with Brendon plastered across his chest, and they'd spent a good couple of hours making out and jerking each other off. 

" _Shane,_ " Brendon says, but his hand is sliding into the small of Spencer's back, under his shirt. 

_Nrgh_ , Spencer thinks, articulately. He's almost lost in how he feels right now. Of all the places in the world to realize he was in love, the Las Vegas airport was hardly the place he'd choose, and of all the places to act like a stupid dude in love, the line in the car rental place was a pretty shitty choice. But ever since then he's felt like he's attached to Brendon by an invisible piece of elastic, and Spencer _knows_ how stupid that sounds. It doesn't matter much, though, because he's pretty sure Brendon's feeling the same thing. 

They try and move away from each other, stand a little further apart, keep their hands to themselves and things go to shit—they end up pressed closer together, touching each other more. It's the weirdest, strangest feeling but Spencer's secretly hoping that it hangs around for a while, because the way he feels when he's around Brendon is kind of amazing. 

He's halfway through stroking his hand through Brendon's hair and kissing him again when the doorbell rings. Spencer hadn't even heard a car in the driveway. 

Brendon raises his eyebrows. "Fuck," he says, taking a step away from Spencer and wiping his palms on his shorts. He's at least half-hard, and Spencer can't help but bite his lip and watch as Brendon rolls his eyes. "I have to answer the door looking like I want to get laid," he says, hitting Spencer in the shoulder. "This is your fault."

"Think unsexy thoughts," Spencer offers, helpfully. Spencer would try and do the same, but Brendon's hot and amazing and in love with _him_ , so it's hardly surprising that there's not much Spencer can do to hide how turned on he is. 

"Fuck you," Brendon says, biting his lip and leaning in to squeeze Spencer's hand before turning around to go answer the door. "Okay, let's do this."

While Brendon's answering the door, Spencer tries to pick somewhere to stand so that the first thing Shane sees when he comes into the kitchen isn't Spencer's erection. When was this his _life?_

"Hey," Shane says, from the hallway, wandering into the kitchen. 

"Hey," Spencer says, from where he's sitting at the kitchen table. He waves, and tries to pretend that it's reasonable that he be sitting down and not getting up to say hi. Spencer hasn't seen Shane in a few weeks, since before the tour, and in the interim, Shane's hair has grown out so that it's curly again, past his ears. He's in board shorts and flip-flops and a hoodie with _zap!_ written across the front in big letters. 

Behind Shane, Brendon rolls his eyes. Spencer feels like sticking his tongue out, because it's not his fault that Brendon's _hot_ and Spencer's erection takes more than five seconds to go away. 

"Guys," Shane says, nodding. He pulls out the seat opposite Spencer and drops a handful of mail down onto the table, and holds out his fist for a fist bump. Spencer bumps back. "Picked the mail up for you."

"Awesome," Brendon says, with what sounds to Spencer like a nervous laugh. Spencer feels the same; he has to bite back an awkward grin. They're hardly used to it themselves, yet, but it feels weird to be this close to each other and not touching, or invading each other's space. "Do you want coffee?"

"Sure," Shane says. He pushes the mail across the table to Spencer, and Spencer thinks Shane looks kind of weirdly serious. "You guys got anything you want to tell me?"

Spencer glances down at the mail. On the top is a package with the name of the chapel where they got married stamped across the bottom of the envelope; it's addressed to Mr. and Mr. Urie-Smith with a Massachusetts return address. "Oh," Spencer manages. It's not fear he's feeling this time, not like with his mom and dad. It's more like frustration at the choice being taken out of his hands. "Brendon," he says, quietly, and he pushes the rest of the mail out of the way so that there's only the package. He squares it so that it's straight against the edge of the table, and tries to settle the nerves in his stomach. 

Brendon hums as he tips grounds into the coffee machine, tapping his fingers against the counter. He doesn't turn around. Spencer doesn't think he heard.

"Brendon," Spencer says again, louder this time. He bites his lip and presses one finger to the package, just beneath the stamp. He says, "We were going to tell you," and doesn't look up. 

Brendon abruptly stops humming and the lid of the coffee machine falls closed. 

Nobody moves. 

"Tell me _what?_ " Shane pushes. "Because that—that's _weird._ You've got mail addressed to you like you're -" Shane trails off, and shrugs his shoulders awkwardly. 

Spencer doesn't know what to say. His mouth is dry.

"Is it a joke?" Shane asks. "Like some crap Pete pulled on tour? Signed you up for a mailing list, or whatever? A free brochure?"

Brendon rests his hand on Spencer's shoulder, and Spencer lets out a helpless, relieved breath. He covers Brendon's hand with his own, and looks up to meet Shane's gaze.

"Shane -" he starts. He really doesn't know what to say. "It's not a joke," he says, finally. 

Shane looks baffled, and a little confused. 

"We got married," Brendon says, suddenly. His voice sounds taut and a little scared. He's holding onto Spencer's shoulder pretty tightly. "In Massachusetts. On tour. We got married."

"The two of you?" Shane manages. He looks bewildered.

"Yeah," Spencer says, and he moves so that he can hold Brendon's hand. "I married him."

"No _way_ ," Shane says, after a minute. "Stop kidding around."

"Yes way," Brendon pulls out the chair next to Spencer's and sits down. He's still holding Spencer's hand, and Shane's staring at their twined fingers. Brendon squares his shoulders and squeezes Spencer's hand tighter. "I love him," Brendon goes on, "and we got married."

"In Massachusetts," Spencer says, quickly, "because we couldn't do it here."

"You guys?" Shane says. "For serious?"

"We love each other," Spencer says, and it's the first time he's said it. His heart's thumping in his chest and he can't look at Brendon because he knows everything he feels is written right across his face. But Brendon's grinning, and leaning in, and he's kissing Spencer right there at the table, in front of Shane, pressing his mouth to Spencer's and cupping his cheek. 

Spencer ducks his head a moment, to try and hide the ridiculous grin he's pretty sure he's not hiding.

 

....and that's where I ended. /o\


End file.
